SECTION ONE
Martinez was pleased with the treatment he got while at the Draun station. Doctor Harnsis had done an excellent job pulling the piece of slag out of his gut and stitching him back up. Harnsis had done such flawless work that you could hardly spot the lingering scar across his abdominals. Harnsis even spent time with him while he was on observation, which was a great boon to him since the nurse’s treatment was downright criminal. They treated Martinez like some kind of leper for his entire stay, unwilling to look at him lest they catch whatever he had. He had felt more welcome at boot camp with drill instructors screaming at him. Once Martinez returned to HNS (Human Naval Ship) Jericho, the Marines began to bombard him with questions nonstop. They always found him no matter where on the massive ten-kilometer-long orbital deployment vessel. The squad was relentless enough that he eventually got tired of explaining that he had never met any aliens while on the station and how the aliens, other than the Doctor, either fainted or avoided him like a plague. That answer didn’t satisfy the Marines in any way. It was rare for Humans to work with or be around aliens as the species was so young to the galactic stage. A few of them took Martinez’s brush-off attitude, ran with it, decided he must have asked one of the nurses on a date, and swung out. Martinez did his best to laugh along with it; it was just playful teasing at the end of the day. It wasn’t as if any of the Marines truly hated their Corpsman. He tolerated the playful jibing until word got passed that Martinez would be transferred out of the unit and be permanently reassigned to Draun station. That announcement opened the floodgates for mockery. As far as the Marines were concerned, Christmas had come early. Martinez would constantly be inundated by Marines poking fun at him and his nonexistent lady love. How creative they managed to get with their pranks was commendable, but that kind of creativity was the norm when playing Grunts-and-Crafts. They uploaded porn onto his datapad and ended the daily briefing by asking him how they could get an alien girlfriend. One of them either crafted or stole an inflatable Roswell gray sex doll, lightly used it, and stuffed it into his rack. The true origin of that abomination is a mystery only the elder gods would ever know. But all of that was in the past. It has been nearly an entire Earth year since the announcement of his transfer. Martinez was now sitting in the back of the small shuttle, taking him back to Draun station. Going back felt almost surreal. He had been in the Navy his whole adult life, from when he turned 18 nearly 12 earth years ago. While technically, he was on active duty for three more standard years, with his new assignment, the Human Navy might as well have given him early separation orders. Martinez twiddled his thumbs as the shuttle began to break the atmosphere. The momentum lulled as air compressed around the bottom of the shuttle, causing it to vibrate gently and bright fire to flick along the outside of the nearby porthole. He looked around at the other passengers and quickly picked out those for whom this was their first time breaking the atmosphere. Whatever appendage they possessed clung tightly to their chair, or they held their eyes closed and tried to retreat into their mind. Their nervousness was something Martinez could understand. The vibrations and dull humming of superheated air around the craft were concerning, at least for your first time. Martinez had broken atmosphere more times than he could count over his combat-riddled Naval career, from the lush jungles of Harudeth to the godless deserts of Verilon, landing at a relay station like Draun was no different than heading to the gee-dunk. The shuttle and the parent ship they left a few hours ago had been filled with aliens of hundreds of species. Most he did not recognize, but a few he did from the rare times he and the Marines went on shore leave. One of the insect-like aliens, likely the same species as Dr. Harnsis, was sitting a few chairs down from him, and they were calm and collected, just like the Doctor. But this one looked slightly different; instead of having a matte green carapace like the Doctor, it was a bright, vibrant blue, nearly as shiny as a well-polished gem. Martinez wondered if it was the same species at all because of the color difference or if it could be some form of sexual dimorphism or possibly convergent evolution. But he was not going to just ask the random individual about it, assuming that posing such questions might be perceived as rude. Following a short flight after breaching the atmosphere, the shuttle entered the temperate climate of the station’s region. Martinez looked out the nearby porthole and watched as the vast ocean of trees flew by, spattered remnants of intelligent life evident in small clusters of buildings or the occasional homestead tucked far away from their destination city. The shuttle lurched to an abrupt stop, the first specks of the city barely visible past the landing pad’s edge. Through the shuttle’s loudspeakers, a dry voice crackled. “Thank you all very much for flying with us today. Please make sure you bring all your luggage, appendages, and trash with you. I would not want to make my copilot clean up today.” There was a small amount of chittering and what sounded like a muffled bellow coming from the cockpit, Martinez assuming that to be the pilot and co-pilot having a brief argument about the joke. Martinez gave a slight chuckle before hefting up his sea bags. He slung one across his chest and another across his back, a nearly universal transport method for all the Human military. He and the rest of the passengers shuffled their way out of the rear ramp of the landing craft. The warm air of the late summer happily greeted them for their first steps on the planet of Renoural. Martinez adored being planetside for the first time after nearly a year on the ship—that, and after an about eight-hour landing craft flight, his legs felt like lead. Finally, having a chance to move was heaven. His legs had gone numb nearly three hours ago, and now they finally had blood flowing freely and started to regain feeling. Slipping out of the swarm of disembarking aliens, Martinez took in a deep breath of fresh, non-recycled air and fell into the briefest moment of bliss. He paused and looked over the city from the elevated landing pad, this being the first time he could see Draun city and station in their full glory and not through the small window of a medical room. The tall, square white walls of Draun station reflected the spiraling twin suns above; it boldly stood out amongst the city’s buildings that grew out of the station. The urban sprawl was more vibrant and beautiful than a rainbow in spring and had been crafted with care into designs that Martinez had never seen nor could have imagined. Each building looked like a work of art. The roads, walls, doors, and parks were each a unique piece of history that helped to tell the story of the city and its inhabitants. The Navy had briefed him on Draun station’s purpose in the sector. Unlike many other planetside locales he had visited, it acted more as a relay port for ships as they traveled around this section of space—the sector’s sprawling central hub allowing for safe resupply, rearmament, and rest. A familiar voice called out as he stood there, basking in the vast expanse of the city below and the lush forestry bordering the horizons. “Human Martinez, how was your trip?” Doctor Harnsis chittered. Twisting around and looking over the drab green sea bag attached to his front, the insectoid doctor stood, tilting his head slightly. A few small antennas moved atop his head and sampled the air. The doctor’s appearance looked the same as the last time Martinez had been on the station, reminding him of a giant praying mantis; if that mantis was almost two meters tall and had four small arms on its thorax, in lue of a pair of large grasping claws. “Doc, it’s great to see you again,” Martinez said with a bright smile drawing up on his lips. “It is nice to see you too,” Harnsis replied, slightly bowing to Martinez. “Doc, you know you don’t have to bow or anything to me, right? I’m just a Corpsman,” Martinez replied before twisting his body slightly to look between his sea bags at the doctor. “Ah, sorry, based on your look, you seem confused. It is just how my species greet one another, similar to how your species, if my research was correct. Ummm, shake hands,” Harnsis said while mimicking the up-and-down motion of a handshake with one of his four short arms. “Ah, alright,” Martinez nodded. “But you are probably tired and want to put your bags down. Follow me, and I will show you to the director’s office; then, we can get you settled into your quarters,” Harnsis happily clicked.
